You Ought to be in Pictures
by Kap Hoop
Summary: My contribution to the 2013 Cobert Valentine's Day Ficathon. Cora finds a letter from one of Robert's former admirers.


**AN: So here is my contribution to the Cobert V-Day Smut Ficathon, though it is not very smutty. Enjoy, my lovelies!**

* * *

Cora was down on her hands and knees, reaching with all her might for the cufflinks she had dropped beneath Robert's bed. She had her arm outstretched so far she thought it would fall off, a pained expression scrawled across her visage.

"Might I be of some assistance to Your Ladyship?" came a familiar voice from behind her.

Cora startled, letting out a small gasp, bringing her hand to her heart. Collecting herself, she rose to her feet and turned toward the doorway to face her husband's somewhat bewildered valet, John Bates. She smiled awkwardly as she smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt and offered him a quiet apology, embarrassed to have been caught in such an unladylike display-by a servant, of all people.

Bates returned her smile. "Not at all, M'Lady. It is I who should be apologizing. I was just returning His Lordship's riding things. I didn't think anyone would be up here at this time of day." His kind and easy manner alleviated some of her previous embarrassment.

"Thank you, Bates. I wouldn't have been up here at all except I...Well, I was looking for something. Carry on." she said lightly as she made toward the door and Bates toward the armoire. Before she left, she turned to face him again. "I wonder-" she began.

"Yes, M'Lady?" Bates asked, looking in her direction,

"I dropped some of His Lordship's cufflinks beneath the bed when I was looking for-I would be very grateful to you if you could have one of the footmen retrieve them for me." She flashed him a grin, hoping he had not heard he falter in speech, or if he did, hoped he had thought nothing of it.

"Of course, Your Ladyship." he bowed his head.

Cora made to leave again, relieved, only to be stopped by Bates. "But, erm, m'Lady?"

"Yes?" She peeked her head in through the doorway.

"Perhaps, if you would like, I could help you to locate whatever it is you are looking for?" he offered.

"Oh," Cora responded quickly-perhaps too quickly, "Thank you, Bates, but I've already found it." she lied, searching the room frantically for anything light and portable. Her eyes landed on a stray scarlet-colored handkerchief on the bedside table-another victim of her previous escapade- and she feigned forgetfulness, entering the room and retrieving it. She gave Bates one last smile and ducked out of the room.

In actuality, Cora had not found what she was looking for-far from it. She had no use for Robert's handkerchief, though she was grateful for the excuse it provided her. She was, rather, ransacking every drawer of every cabinet in her husband's dressing room in an attempt to locate anything that might give the slightest hint as to his intentions for the upcoming Valentine's Day, which was two days away.

Robert had always put an exorbitant amount of time and money into the planning of Valentine's Day, regardless of Cora's protestations and objections. Every year was more spectacular than the last, each holiday more lavish than she ever had imagined possible. Robert always justified this over-the-top expression in the same way. He said that she was well worth of cent and every second he spent and that she ought to know this by now. Her rebuttal was always cut short by a kiss he planted on her lips and a smirk that followed as he told her she could punish him later.

As much as she appreciated all his hard work and devotion, Cora couldn't help but feel guilty at the prospect of not being able to reciprocate such a lovely gesture as completely as she wished. But this year, when Robert started dropping hints about his plans for the fourteenth of February, she made up her mind that she would rival his efforts and give him an equally spectacular holiday. She wanted to let him know just how happy he'd made her these thirty-some years.

And now she was inwardly cursing herself for putting off her task for so long. She was scrambling around the estate like a madwoman, searching for something that could have been as small as a scrap of paper or a receipt.

At one point in her task she had become a tad overzealous-or overanxious-and sent a drawer of cufflinks tumbling. She had been desperately trying to retrieve a few stray articles when Bates had appeared in the doorway, dashing any hope she may have had of completing her search of Robert's dressing room.

She had not anticipated being caught by anyone, however, as the girls had gone to Ripon for the day to have some new gowns made and Robert was in the village on a matter of business. For whatever reason, she had not taken into account the ever present servants and their never-ending duties, and was thus caught quite off guard by Bates' interruption. Some good did come of it, though, she thought. She now had an excuse for pillaging through her husband's things-the handkerchief. If anyone asked, she would just smile coyly and say, "Oh, I was just looking for His Lordship's favorite handkerchief. To mend it." and be on her merry way-as she had just done with the valet

Cora still had a few hours until dinner rolled around and Robert and the girls rolled in, a few hours left to hunt for her ever elusive treasure. Having exhausted her husband's dressing room, she decided to try her luck in the library. She sauntered into the bibliotheque, decoy handkerchief still in hand. She thought herself quite clever, thinking her plan was foolproof and would work swimmingly if only she could avoid another encounter with Bates.

In no time at all, Cora was stooped over her husband's desk, rearranging its contents. She had so far unsuccessfully rifled through two drawers without being disturbed. When she opened the third drawer, she felt her heartbeat quicken. She was sure she had found the pot of gold she was looking for. Inside the desk drawer was a somewhat worn cardboard box full of notes, letters, and various other mementos Robert had saved.

She removed a stack of letters from the box and began to leaf through them. She smiled as she saw flashes of some of the more recently dated letters she had signed "Cora" and caught glimpses of older letters, yellowed with age, that were signed with "Miss Levinson". It made her heart swell to know what a sentimental fool Robert was, that he had held on to letters she'd sent him at the beginning of their courtship, letters she'd sent him mere months ago, and that he'd probably continue to do so for the rest of their life together.

Sighing contentedly, Cora slumped down into the desk chair in front of her. She grabbed another from the pile at random and began to read it:

_April 23, 1888_

_Dearest Robert,_

_I had the most wonderful time with you last night at the gala. I don't care what you say, you are a splendid dancer and a most captivating conversationalist!_  
_I do hope you enjoyed yourself as much as I did, and I hope to have the good fortune of seeing you at Sir Midwinter's ball next month-and perhaps more frequently after that._

Cora hardly recognized the script that was scrawled across the page. She realized, of course, that this letter would have been written when she was about twenty years old, but the language just didn't sound like her, even then. She let her eyes scan over the paper again, this time taking in every word carefully. When she reached the bottom of the page she gasped and shot up from her chair. At the foot of the letter where there should have been a "Miss Levinson", she found instead:

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Edna P._

"Edna P.?!" Cora exclaimed, crumpling the letter in her left hand. A rush of emotions flooded through her veins. Shock. Hurt. Fury.

In a rage, she gathered up the remaining letters, shoved them in their tattered box and slammed the desk drawer shut, delighting in the loud thud it made. "Edna P." she huffed under her breath. "Oh, if I could only get my hands on little Edna P.!" she thought viciously. She paced the library for a few minutes, stewing, seething. "Wait a minute-" she realized suddenly, stopping in her tracks. "I have no reason to be mad at Edna-whoever she is-It's Robert's neck I should be wringing!" She couldn't wait until dinner rolled around. How she'd lay into Robert then.

But dinner wasn't for another two hours. In order to pass the time, Cora decided she would catch up on some of her light reading. She scanned the shelves of the library, made her selection-a thin, hardcover book, and headed for the comfort of the drawing room. Once inside, she settled into the armchair near the settee, and throwing propriety to the wind, put her feet up on the ottoman, crossing her legs at the ankle.

Cora cracked open her volume of selected poems and short stories and perused the table of contents. "Ah!" she exhaled, finding precisely what she was looking for. She flipped through the pages, locating the one she wanted, and began to read a poem that befit her emotions perfectly:

_By the time you swear you're his,_  
_Shivering and sighing,_  
_And he swears his passion is Infinite, undying-_  
_Lady, make note of this:_  
_One of you is lying._

Oh, how right Dorothy Parker was. She had evidently known several men like Robert in her life, Cora mused. But her innately gentle nature poked its head through the clouds of her imaginings, and almost immediately upon thinking these things of her husband, she felt guilty. After all, she reasoned, the letter was from a time before she and Robert had married-even if it was only a matter of months beforehand.

Still, there had to be a reason as to why he had kept it after all these years. Thinking, of course, that he had to have some residual feelings for this mysterious woman, Cora resolved to make the memory of her disappear forever from his mind-and she would start by giving him the most spectacularly romantic Valentine's Day he had ever known. Or better yet, she thought, she would start at dinner tonight.

Cora awoke to the sound of the dressing gong permeating the air. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she pushed herself up from the chair and slowly made the trek up to her room to dress.

"Good evening, M'Lady." O'Brien greeted her as she walked through the doorway of her boudoir. "Did you have a nice rest?"

"Good evening, O'Brien. I did, thank you." Cora smiled at her. "Is His Lordship returned yet?"

"He is, M'Lady. Not twenty minutes ago." she answered.

"I think that's a record even for him." Cora remarked with raised eyebrows as she made her way over to O'Brien, who was in the process of laying out a deep burgundy dinner dress for her.

After she had put on her dinner wear and had O'Brien touch up her hair and makeup, Cora dismissed her and began mentally preparing herself for her meeting with Robert. She felt somewhat nervous, though she wasn't sure she should. Tonight she was more charming and feminine, more...more everything for him. Pulling her glove up to her elbow, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, smiled and winked, and headed downstairs.

She was met at the foot of the staircase by a handsomely dressed Robert, who was grinning up at her.

"Hello, darling. How was your day?" Cora cooed, grabbing his proffered hand, which he promptly kissed before he allowed her to place her hand in the crook of his arm.

"Rather tedious, I'm afraid, but much better now that I have you on my arm. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my dear."

Cora batted her eyelashes and thanked him, returning the compliment. She had the feeling that wooing him tonight just might be easier than she had anticipated.

Upon entering the dining room, the couple were greeted only by Carson and the footmen. Cora glanced around the room bemusedly. "Where are the girls?" she asked, "And cousin Matthew?"

Robert led her to a seat near the head of the table. "Mary and Edith decided to stay on in Ripon for the evening. I suppose they're having too much fun draining the checkbook dry. They phoned while I was out. I'm told you were in a deep sleep." he smirked at her.

"I'm afraid I got caught up in a little Dorothy Parker." she smiled sheepishly, squeezing Robert's arm. "Where's Matthew?"

"Oh, he took this opportunity to dine with Isobel at Crawley House." Robert replied, pulling out a chair for his wife before seating himself at the head of the table. This middle-class behavior clearly distressed Carson to no end and Robert apologized half-heartedly. "As a matter of fact, Carson," he began, "I think Her Ladyship and I will do just fine on our own tonight. It would be wonderful if you could just bring up the main course and a bit of dessert before you take your leave."

"If you're sure, M'Lord?" Carson had a pained look on his face.

"Yes, quite sure. Thank you."

Carson was reluctant to do so, but respected Lord Grantham's absurd wishes and left the two to eat in utter aloneness.

"It looks like it's just the two of us then..." Cora said softly, covering Robert's hand with her own. "The last time we were completely alone for dinner was on our honeymoon, I believe."

"Yes," Robert turned his hand over so he was gripping hers, "And even then we weren't able to fully appreciate it as we do now." He recalled how awkward and unsure they had both been when they were first married.

"No," she smiled, "But I certainly appreciate it now." She leaned in and kissed his lips, lingering there for a time longer than propriety would have permitted. She pulled back, leaving Robert breathless, and picked up her glass of wine. As she sipped it she gave him a sultry glance over the top of the glass.

Robert followed suit, picking of his glass. He hoped a bit of alcohol would have a calming effect on his nerves, for right now it took him all he had not to lunge across the table and ravish his wife right then and there.

Cora was fully aware of his state and delighted in teasing him further. She set her glass down and licked her lips seductively. Robert gulped hard. "Is everything alright, dear?" she asked innocently.

Robert set his glass down harder than he intended, the liquid inside sloshing violently against the sides. "Oh, yes. Everything is fine." he blushed, though not exactly sure why. He cleared his throat. "Hungry, darling?" he asked, attempting to regain his composure.

"I'm _famished_." Cora replied, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

_'Oh, God!_' Robert thought, _'I won't last through the main course if she keeps this up!'_

"How about you, Robert darling, are you hungry?"

"Hm?" He hadn't heard a word she had said, not when she had been looking at him as though he were Douglas Fairbanks or Rudolph Valentino.

She wriggled in her chair a bit before leaning in again and whispering, "Are you hungry?" He could smell the sweet wine on her breath and his eyes closed involuntarily.

"Oh, yes." he whispered back, "Very hungry indeed."

Cora's grin widened. "I had a feeling you would be." she said, sitting back again. She picked up her utensils and began cutting into the duck on her plate, instructing Robert to do the same. "You know, darling, little boys who do not finish their dinner do not get dessert afterward."

"Oh, I_ will_ be having dessert, dear." Robert raised his eyebrows at her. "Count on that."

Cora giggled. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth, myself."

The remainder of the meal passed in a similar fashion. Cora continued to tease her husband mercilessly, flirtatiously licking her lips after every drink of wine, _accidentally_ brushing her bare foot against his calf when he spoke, causing his breath to hitch mid-sentence.

Robert rushed through his dessert, certain that one more minute of his wife's coquettish behavior and come-hither gleams would prove unendurable, even for the strongest of men.

The instant he finished his last bite of chocolate mousse he carelessly dropped his fork down to his plate, where it clanked loudly, and stood from his chair. As he walked past Cora he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up from her chair, and aided her in the direction of the door. He cared not that she had over half a mousse to consume; she had put him through absolute agony all evening and it was now his turn to take charge.

"Robert!" Cora protested as he dragged her through the doorway, "I haven't finished yet!"

"You'll finish upstairs, M'Lady." he replied, sweeping her up in his arms.

"Oh!" Cora gasped excitedly, snaking her arms around his neck as he began his ascent up the flight of stairs. He stopped on the landing and placed a firm kiss on her lips before climbing the remaining steps.

In his current state, Robert could not be bothered trifling with such absurdities as doorknobs, so upon reaching Cora's door he took a more direct approach at entry and kicked the door open with his foot. Once inside, he pushed the port closed with the same foot that had opened it and set Cora down on her feet. He began hastily undressing her, kissing the newly revealed flesh at every opportunity.

When this feat was accomplished, Cora eagerly assisted Robert out of his fine dinner studs, guiding him over to her bed where their dessert waited to be devoured.

A few hours later, the sounds of heavy breathing and panting filled the air as Robert and Cora laid in bed, fully sated after three helpings of dessert had been consumed. Robert smiled up at the ceiling, most pleased with the events of the night. He began humming a light-hearted tune to himself as he mused.

Cora was, however, not feeling nigh as charmed as he. All throughout dinner and the escapades that followed she had been determined to make Robert feel like the only man in the world, make him forget that she was _not_ the only woman in the world-certainly not the only one who fancied him and found him terribly attractive.

Laying next to him in bed, she desperately hoped she had succeeded, and judging by his merry humming, she felt she had. She was glad he had enjoyed himself tonight, even if she hadn't-not like she normally did, anyway. Tonight was about him. It was meant to be a sweet prelude to the grand and glorious holiday she would throw in his honor. It was meant to erase from his memory that-that woman.

As soon as this interloper entered her thoughts, Cora felt the sting of hot tears in her eyes and shut them tightly. The last thing she wanted was for her tears to spoil a wonderful evening that had gone so perfectly according to plan. She took a few deep breaths, attempting to maintain her composure.

Robert noticed the change in her breathing and shifted his gaze from the ceiling to his wife. She certainly did not look happy and exhilarated as she usually did after an adventurous night like tonight. "Cora?" he turned on his side so he was facing her. "Are you quite alright, darling?" he asked.

Plastering a smile on her face, she looked over at him and nodded. "Of course, my dear, why shouldn't I be?" she had a lackluster look in her eyes that did not by her husband unnoticed go.

Robert reached for her hand, bringing it up to his chest. "Are you sure? You look sad, my love." A compassionate expression spread across his countenance.

Cora's lips quivered slightly and she shook her head. This gesture meant to dismiss any discomforting notion he may have had on the matter only served to further convince Robert that something was, in fact, amiss. His gaze grew increasingly intense and Cora averted her eyes, looking to his chest.

He squeezed her hand tighter. "Cora...?" He moved his face closer to hers. "What is the matter?"

Her resolve falling short of what she would have hoped, Cora could only let out a choked sob in response. "I-oh!" she cried, throwing back the covers and sitting up in bed. She turned her back to Robert, who was frantically trying to shed the sheets, as well and inch closer to her. She put her head in her hands and continued to sob.

Robert placed his hands on her heaving shoulders and tried to soothe her. "Cora, darling..." he whispered softly, "Tell me what is the matter."

She merely shook her head in response.

"Well, will you at least tell me if I guess what is the matter?" Robert tried again.

Cora sniffed. "I suppose so." she managed to utter between hiccoughs.

Robert began gently running his hands up and down her arms and shoulders. "Well, then," he said, "is it something...that I've done?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding her head ever so slightly.

Robert was lost. He really hadn't the faintest idea to what she was referring. He hadn't seen her all day, and she had seemed perfectly content when he left for the village this morning. Maybe that's what was upsetting her. He hadn't even bothered to invite her along today. Her day must have been a dreadful bore with no one home to distract her from the tedium. But, no, that didn't make sense, Robert thought. She had never been very interested in his business dealings, no matter how hard she feigned it. And it wasn't as if she'd never been to the village before.

A sudden idea dawned on him, and Robert stopped massaging Cora's shoulders at once. "Cora..." he began, a wounded expression creeping across his features, his voice low, "have I...hurt you, just now?" his voice now hardly above a whisper. He felt nauseous. He simply couldn't bear the thought of wounding her in a selfish flurry of lasciviousness. "Have I..." he croaked, a lump growing in his throat.

Cora spun around in his arms and faced him. "Oh, Robert, no!" She placed a hand on his cheek. "No, it's nothing like that. I just-" she dropped her hand from his face.

Robert, somewhat relieved, placed a hand on hers and asked, "You just...what, Cora?"

Feeling defeated and utterly exhausted, Cora sniffed, sighed, and prepared to tell all. "I just wanted to make you happy tonight and plan a big Valentine's Day and make you forget about-well _it_, and now I'm crying and everything is ruined!"

Robert really had to concentrate hard if he wanted to understand anything she said through her hysterical crying and flailing hand gestures.

"Whoa, wait a minute, darling, slow down." he interjected, allowing her a minute to catch her breath. "First things first, you have made me very happy, happier than I thought possible for myself. Not only tonight, but every night-and day, for as long as we have been together, and you must know that I am so grateful for you every day. As for Valentine's Day-you know I don't want or need anything but you. I like to spoil you. It's not that often I get you all to myself, darling."

"Well, that's what you say _now_! Of course, you would say that! But-" Cora was in hysterics again, "But then why must I try so hard to make you forget about all these swooning women who consume-"

"Wait, wait, wait. What _swooning women_?" Robert was beyond perplexed.

A flash of anger flared in Cora's eyes. "How dare you try and deny it, Robert Crawley! Unbelieveable!" she stood abruptly.

"I really-" he attempted, thoroughly bemused, "What, who are you talking about?"

"Who? Really, Robert? You're asking who?" Cora tapped her foot angrily on the carpeted floor. "How about _Edna P_. for instance!"

Robert puzzled, mouthing the name to himself. "Cora, I don't know any-"

"Hm. That's strange. Especially since I have a _letter_ that suggests otherwise." She stated tersely, sidling over to her vanity and pulling the crumpled letter from the top drawer, where she'd put it after dismissing O'Brien earlier that evening. She marched back over to Robert and shoved the paper into his hands, stepped back and crossed her arms.

Robert uncrumpled the letter and smoothed it out as best he could and began to read it aloud, "...hugs and kisses,"

"Edna P." Cora said with finality.

Robert looked up to see his seething wife's gaze boring into him. He sighed and gave the letter in his hand a quick second read-through. He honestly couldn't remember receiving this letter. He scanned over the header again and his head shot up suddenly. "Cora!" he exclaimed, "This letter is over thirty years old!" He shook the letter for emphasis. "Look! Look here!" he pointed to the date located in the top righthand corner of the page. "April 23, 1888." he read. "We weren't even _married_ then!"

"Yes, Robert, I know all that already!" she said sternly. "But that doesn't change the fact that you kept it! After all these years?!"

"Honestly, Cora, I don't understand why you're so upset. I really didn't even know I still had it-I barely remember receiving it! It must've gotten mixed up in the letters I saved from you and mistakenly placed in the box in my desk...By the way, what were you doing in my desk-"

"So, you're telling me that you...don't...still have feelings for this...Edna P. woman?" her tone softened slightly.

"Of course I don't have feelings for her. You're the only woman in my life, darling. The only one who could ever be." Robert held out a hand to her.

Hesitantly, she took a few steps toward him. "You're absolutely certain?"

"Don't be silly. I'm positive that you complete me more fully than any other woman on the face of the planet, and I love you, Cora." he smiled at her, "Now, come here!"

She acquiesced, sitting on his lap. "I love you, too, Robert. I'm sorry I acted so ridiculously." she nuzzled her head into his neck. "But, Robert?" she looked up.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you think you could...tell me who she was, Edna whatsername?"

Robert sighed. "Do you really think that's a wise idea, Cora?"

"Well, I don't see what harm it could do now." She ran her fingers down his chest. "Please?" she smiled coquettishly up at him.

He smiled back at her. "Oh, alright, if you insist. I met Edna around the same time you and I met, in 1888, if you recall."

"Of course, dear. That's the year we were married." Cora clucked.

"Right, of course." he continued, placing a kiss on her nose. "My mother and father dragged me along to some ball I didn't wish to attend, and Edna happened to be a guest there as well. I was miserable. I don't recall exactly how it happened, but Edna and I were introduced and ended up dancing a few reels together. At the end of the night I walked her out to her carriage and that was that."

"But what about the letter?" Cora asked expectantly.

"Oh, that." Robert waved his hand dismissively. "She wrote to me the night after the ball, saying-well, you know what she said-and I think I saw her maybe twice after that."

"Why is that?"

"Well, you see, I was a bit preoccupied with a devastatingly handsome, charming, American woman, as you may remember." he nudged her playfully.

"Who was also quite deep-pocketed, I recall." she nudged him back.

"But I do believe her beauty and kindness far outweighed her fortune-outweighs her fortune."

"Naturally." she grinned. "What ever happen to Miss...What's her last name, again?"

"Purviance. Her name is-or was, I'm not sure-Edna Purviance."

Cora furrowed her brows. "From where do I know that name?" she lifted her head from Robert's shoulder. "It sounds so familiar."

Robert exhaled through his teeth.

"What is it, Robert? Have I met her before?" she asked innocently.

"No, my dear, I wouldn't say you've met her exactly."

"You wouldn't? But I recognize that name..." she drifted off, trying to put two and two together.

"Perhaps," Robert cleared his throat, pulling her back to the present, "You remember a few weeks ago when we went to that movie house?"

"Yes! I also remember how putt off your mother was when she found out we'd been consorting with lower-class citizens." Cora giggled.

"Well, do you recall the name of the picture we saw, _'The Pilgrim'_?"

"Of course, it was a Chaplin picture. I've always liked him. Don't you think he's just a charming man?"

"Yes, indeed, I've always admired the little tramp. But do you remember the woman in the show, darling?"

Cora murmured an affirmation. "She was magnificent. Very beautiful."

Robert squirmed nervously. "Right, well, that's where you recognize the name from...that was...Edna Purviance." He anxiously tugged at the collar of his pyjamas, feeling a blush creep up his neck.

Cora stared at him blankly for a moment before furrowing her brows in disbelief. "What?" was all she could manage to say.

"That woman was Edna. The one who wrote the letter that you found that I didn't know I had and that I haven't seen for thirty years, the one that means nothing to me at all." he gulped.

"What-you used to go with a film starlet?" Cora questioned. "And you never even mentioned it?"

"Well, she wasn't a movie star when I knew her. And I only just remember that we courted-for the briefest time, mind you-tonight when you threw that paper at me. The paper I didn't know still existed, and, well," he was rambling, trying hopelessly to justify everything and nothing at the same time.

Cora threw her head back and her laughter echoed throughout the room.

"Wha...?" Robert was bewildered.

Cora lifted her head and looked into her husband's bemused face. "Calm down, Robert. I'm not angry that she's now rich and famous and the whole world is her oyster. Surely you couldn't read her palm and see that in years to come she would be Charlie Chaplin's leading lady."

"Oh." Robert let out a sigh of relief. "Even if I had known, I could never have married her. Mama would have had a stroke!" They laughed and Robert tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Aren't you the least bit disappointed, Robert Crawley, that you missed your chance to marry a movie star?" Cora's eyes scintillated as she she looked into his.

"Now, why would I want to do that when I have the real thing right here, shining brighter than any I've ever seen? Riddle me that, Miss Levinson."

Cora placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him with all her might, passion flooding through her every vein. "Is that a sufficient answer to your question, Lord Downton?" she asked, smirking at him.

"Not quite, MIss Levinson, not quite." he returned her grin and collapsed backward onto the bed, pulling her along with him.

* * *

**AN: I know that some of the references in this were a bit anachronistic, but I just had to put them in anyway. **

**Hope you liked it! Happy Valentine's Day Coberts! :)**


End file.
